


golden hour

by fliptomybside



Series: you can hear it in the silence [11]
Category: Dunkirk (2017) RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fliptomybside/pseuds/fliptomybside
Summary: harry takes a lot of polaroids.





	golden hour

**Author's Note:**

> This one is 10000% Em's fault. I want to write this verse forever. Title from Kacey Musgraves' song of the same name, unbeta-ed so all mistakes are mine, please don't let the real people that this is about see it, etc., etc.

Every muscle in Fionn’s body feels like it’s been stretched to its breaking point and all he can focus on is Harry’s hot breath on his shoulder. Steady and even and feeling like Fionn’s only point of contact with his actual life. The rest comes back in increments. The worn soft sheets against his skin. The smell of sweat and Harry’s coconut shampoo. Harry’s occasional sniffle and then movement as he twists to reach for something.

“What’re you doing,” Fionn groans, “aren’t you tired?”

“Mmm,” Harry hums, and when Fionn opens his eyes, Harry’s got the polaroid camera he brought back from tour yesterday in his hands. 

“Harry,” Fionn says, but Harry just presses a kiss to his shoulder and makes his way down the bed, the mattress shifting under the weight of his body. 

“I am tired,” Harry concedes.

He swings a leg over Fionn’s and then stands up, tall and wobbly and all legs, looming over Fionn with his neck still flushed from before. 

_Before,_ Fionn thinks. Before was twenty minutes ago when Fionn was licking Harry open and then rolling him over, pinning his arms up on either side of his head and letting him rock his hips up to rub off against Fionn’s stomach, making a mess of both of them.

“‘M tired but not too tired. It’s been a month, Fionnly, haven’t you missed me?”

Fionn grins up at Harry lazily because he has. He’s missed all of it, even this—Harry pushing through exhaustion in the name of making the most of their time together. Fionn knows Harry’s right. Knows he needs that push sometimes, and Harry always seems to know just how much is enough and how much is too much. 

“I have,” Fionn says, and his voice sounds fucked out to his own ears.

His legs still feel like overcooked noodles and all he can make himself do is stare up at Harry, the polaroid camera big and blocky in his hands. Fionn lets himself take in the bruise that’s blooming on Harry’s thigh and the way he can see the tendons shift under his skin. His cock, also still flushed and mostly soft, and Fionn’s whole body wants to come again just looking at Harry like this. 

Harry stills above him, legs on either side of Fionn’s hips.

“Smile, please.”

His hair’s a mess, all frizz and tangled curls, all Fionn can see of his head behind the camera.

“Are you really about to take a naked polaroid of me?”

Harry lowers the camera. He looks half offended, half like he’s trying not to smile.

“Waist up, I promise.”

Fionn rolls his eyes and Harry captures it, shaking out the polaroid and leaning down to set it carefully on the bedside table. 

“Dangerous,” Fionn starts, “and I don’t believe you, if I’m honest. Pretty sure you can’t help yourself. My phone’s full of rude pictures.”

“Heeey,” Harry whines, but he’s grinning as he runs a hand through his hair, leaving it standing straight up off his forehead, “they’re tasteful.”

Fionn laughs even though all of his muscles protest the movement and Harry takes another picture, leaning up on his tip toes and teetering dangerously above Fionn.

“Okay,” he says a second later, shaking out the photo and squinting at it, “this one’s probably a bit rude.”

Fionn just covers his face with his hands and muffles a groan.

“Don’t worry, it’s just for me. I don’t really like sharing.”

“Sure,” Fionn says, moving his hands, “whatever you say.”

“I say it’s a work of art. A rude one, but still a work of art.”

Fionn blinks up at him and stretches, watches the way Harry drags his eyes down Fionn’s body.

“Like what you see?”

Harry sticks his lower lip out.

“Course I do. And it’s been a month since I’ve seen it, so forgive me for trying to capture the moment.”

“Mm,” Fionn says, biting at his bottom lip and reaching down to palm his cock.

He can hear Harry’s sharp intake of breath and he grins as he starts jerking himself off slowly, dragging his thumb over the head of his cock.

“Rude,” Harry exhales, and Fionn can’t even bring himself to care about the fact that Harry takes another picture, this one undoubtedly not for public consumption. 

“It’s your fault,” Fionn pants, speeding up his movements and ignoring the ache of his abdominal muscles.

“My fault,” Harry says, his voice strangled, “how so?”

Fionn slows down for a second and grips the base of his cock, looks up at Harry then lets his gaze drop to Harry’s cock. He’s almost completely hard again and Fionn smirks, thinks about Harry fucking into him later, when he’s not as sore, hot and always almost too much.

“Look at you,” Fionn says, “isn’t this how people normally react when faced with all of this?”

Harry makes a face.

“Generally, no.”

Fionn rolls his eyes and speeds up his hand again, the movement slick and burning the muscles in Fionn’s forearm but he doesn’t want to stop. Can’t stop, really, now that he’s started and now that Harry’s staring down at him, his own cock hard and slick at the tip. 

“Missed this,” Harry says, dropping to his knees and moving up to straddle Fionn’s thighs, “missed you.”

“Mffm,” Fionn mumbles just before he comes all over his own chest, his thighs twitching under the weight of Harry’s body.

“Quite messy,” Harry says, leaning forward and dragging a finger down Fionn’s stomach.

Fionn closes his eyes and lets his head fall back. He hears the click of the camera but he doesn’t have the energy to do anything but smile. He feels Harry moving. Listens to the sound of him putting the camera back down on the bedside table, then hears the soft noise of skin against skin.

Harry’s hard. He’s hard and his fist is flying over his cock and Fionn doesn’t have the energy to do anything but watch as Harry comes all over his lower stomach, adding to the mess.

“Are you going to take a picture of this, too?”

Harry grins.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [here](http://polaroidgirlfriend.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


End file.
